INTERNAL FLAME: THE SPARK
by ColonelTravis1836
Summary: DISCONTINUED. A Flame that Never Dies. A Direct Sequel to "Titanic: A Grief that Can't be Spoken". Now we follow our characters and their children as they now face a new hell: War. From the sinking of the Lusitania to the Attack on Pearl Harbor, the Children of the Barricade will learn that in war, no one is safe. Includes many OCs
1. Chapter 1

" _ **The Violence of War admits no distinction. The lance that is lifted on guilt and power may sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness." -Dr. Samuel Johnson**_

 **SATURDAY, MAY 1** **st** **, 1915**

 **PIER 54, NEW YORK, NY**

 _ **R.M.S. Lusitania**_

Those that have survived the tragedy of the sinking of the _Royal Mail Ship Titanic_ just three years ago, would unfortunately, find only a short time to live in peace and prosperity. Between the sinking and now, there have been diplomatic tensions between the great powers of Europe, specifically between Germany, the Austria-Hungarian Empire, Russia, and Great Britain and France to name a few.

In August of 1914, when Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary was assassinated by a Serbian Terrorist, the incident alone gained little attention.

It simply served only as an excuse for the fuse to be lit.

Europe was now at war.

Great Britain and France have been clashing artillery and gunfire with the Germans and Austria-Hungarians and the Russians.

The United States of America chose not to become involved in Europe's affairs, as they do not concern those of the Americans.

Nobody knew that their minds would change in less than a week.

 **!**

23-year old Franklin Combeferre and his 21-year old wife Eponine, were walking through the crowds of well-wishers standing on the dock. In their tow was Eponine's younger brother, Gavroche Thenardier and their two-year old twins, Veronica and Alan Combeferre.

"Gavroche, are you certain of this voyage?" Eponine asked her little brother.

"Of course I am sure, 'Ponine!" he replied. "What's there to be uncertain about?"

Eponine had trouble with her words. "I'm certain you'd understand my concerns…"

She was of course referring to their lost family members from three years ago, their parents, and her young sister Azelma.

"Aye, I hear your concerns, dear sis. But you're not to worry! Take a look up there!"

He pointed to the top of the _Lusitania_ 's hull by the Boat Deck. "They've plenty of lifeboats this time around!"

"We only wish for you to be sure that this is what you want to do, Gavroche." Franklin said, putting his hands on Eponine's shoulders. "And given what's happened, it's only fair that she shows concern."

Gavroche sighed and placed his one hand on Eponine's arm, and the other on Franklin's arm. "Look, I know why you two are concerned. And I share your concerns. But I'm eighteen now, and I've decided that I can't be away from my homeland forever. I miss my friends. Out here…the children my age…they look at me funny."

"They don't look at you funny!" Eponine tried.

"I just feel like I can be more at myself with my friends of Irish blood!" Gavroche said.

Eponine pulled him in for a hug. "Can you at least just promise me that you will be careful, Gavroche Thenardier? If anything happens to you I'll kill you!" She said.

"I promise, 'Ponine. And I'll send you lot a wireless. Don't worry about me! I'm a fighter!"

Thinking about the current political clash that Ireland is facing right now, Franklin thought to himself _"That's what I'm afraid of."_.

Just then the whistle blew the first time.

Gavroche knelt down to hug his niece and nephew. "Don't worry my wee little ones! I'll see the lot of you real soon!"

"We'll miss you, Uncle 'Roche!" The twins chimed in perfect unison.

Franklin and Eponine couldn't help but smile at their rehearsed timing for two-year olds.

Gavroche then hugged Franklin with his usual 'take care of my sister or I'll kill you' lectures to which Franklin was more than used to. Then Gavroche hugged his sister tight before grabbing his luggage and hustling towards the gangplank and climbing up to board the _Lusitania_.

The _R.M.S. Lusitania_ was no way near the size of the _Titanic_ or the _Olympic_ , nor that of White Star's newest giant, the _Gigantic_ later renamed and converted to a hospital ship, _Britannic_. But the _Lusitania_ was slightly better in terms of speed, which was a relief to Eponine because it meant less travel time across the Atlantic.

 _Lusitania_ was owned by White Star's rival company, the Cunard Line. Her main structure was rather plain looking compared to _Titanic_. Her four large smokestacks were all painted black.

But _Lusitania_ also excelled in one area that Gavroche had already mentioned: She carried enough lifeboats for everybody on board.

After the third whistle blow, _Lusitania_ slowly pulled out of the pier and soon began its' voyage to England.

Frank could see tears rolling down his wife's cheeks. Routine called for him to turn her to face him as he would wipe away her tears. "Gavroche will be fine. I promise."

Eponine smiled as she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. "You better be right, Franklin Combeferre! If not, you'll be feeling my wrath in Gavroche's place!"

Franklin smiled and kissed Eponine on the lips. "I'm sure of it."

As they were returning to where they had parked their car, Combeferre noticed a newspaper clipping on the ground. He went over to pick it up.

It was an article in German.

He understood only parts of German, but enough to know that the content had talked about U-Boats, or a submersible boat capable of travelling underwater.

These crafts were deadly in the water. They had the ability to launch torpedoes, or, directional underwater cannon balls.

But that's not what concerned Combeferre so much.

What concerned him is the fact that there was a list of British ships, and that _Lusitania_ was three times bigger than the other ship names.

Why would Germany post a list of British names on their list?

Combeferre quickly crumpled the newspaper clipping and shoved it in his pocket as he rejoined his family to their car.

As Combeferre was driving out of the city and crossing the bridge back into New Jersey, he couldn't help but notice that Eponine's eyes never left the ship as it was sailing into the horizon.

"He will be fine. You're the one that said that once he was eighteen, he would be free to go anywhere that he chooses." Combeferre said, placing his hand in Eponine's.

"In the States, Franklin. I never thought he'd want to go back to Ireland so badly. I really wish he didn't want to…"

"I know darling. But weren't you the one who told me that he didn't want to leave for America in the first place?"

"Yes. He was heartbroken inside, but he kept a tough exterior for a fifteen-year old. And we would've eventually let him return to Ireland when he was old enough and had enough money…"

Combeferre didn't even finish her thoughts for her, because he knew that the circumstances were different.

"I don't know, Franklin. I just…I have a bad feeling about this voyage."

"Darling…I understand your concerns. But rest assured there haven't been any shipwrecks since…you know." Combeferre said.

"No? What about the _Empress of Ireland_ last year?!" Eponine challenged.

Combeferre had forgotten about that. "Well, _Lusitania_ is taking extra precautions. And Gavroche is a fighter. He will be alright!" He tried to reassure her.

Eponine sighed and squeezed Combeferre's hand tight.

They returned to their home in Cape May. They bought a house of their own thanks to the help of Combeferre's very good friends, Jack and Deena Carson.

Combeferre enjoyed his view of the ocean. His traumatic neurosis from three years ago had finally been eradicated from his mind once and for all.

Frank and Eponine's happiness couldn't have been more bliss. Combeferre took over as manager for the town's Western Union, and studied codes on the side.

A year after Eponine had given birth, she was once again approached to appear in moving pictures by her acquaintance Marion Morgan, who just recently, married her fiancé, Chief Investigator Isaac Bell, who had been of unequaled service to the Combeferres due to unprovoked terrorizing by a gang of anarchists.

Eponine's performance proved to be a smash at Marion's film premiere. Almost immediately, Marion's moving picture company signed Eponine on as a permanent silent screen actress. Combeferre couldn't have been more proud of his wife.

And no one could forget the newest addition to their family: Veronica and Alan. They were very adorable, well behaved, and were practically the favorites of Cape May.

The only thing that could be better is if Gavroche had reconsidered his decision to return home to Ireland. But Combeferre had already convinced Eponine that she couldn't hold on to her little brother forever. Like their own children someday, she would've had to have let him spread his wings.

But other than that, life was grand for the Combeferre family.

 **MONDAY, MAY 3** **rd** **, 1915**

 **WESTERN UNION, CAPE MAY**

Combeferre parked his car and walked into his office. He was greeted by his colleague, Jack Carson.

"Morning, Frank. This just came in for you." Jack said, handing Combeferre a telegram.

To Combeferre Family:

Having Blast X First Class Swanky X See You At Christmas

-Gav.

Combeferre smiled as Jack approached him. "Gavroche?" The latter asked.

"Yes. He's on his way to Ireland. I suppose he just couldn't find his calling here."

Jack sighed as he took a seat next to Frank. "I'm gonna miss that little kid."

Something clicked in Combeferre's mind. He dug into his briefcase as he asked Jack "You don't happen to speak German, do you?"

"Somewhat. Why?" Jack asked.

Combeferre pulled out the newspaper clipping he found on the docks the other day. "Perhaps then, you could translate this for me?"

Jack took the paper and read it carefully. His eyes widened.

"What?!" Combeferre asked.

"Uh…what ship is Gavroche on again?!" Jack asked.

"The _Lusitania._ Why?"

"Damn…" Jack said to himself.

"What is it?!" Combeferre asked again, slightly worried.

Jack took in a deep breath. "Frank…" he began. "This article from Germany is a warning to American civilians. They considered any British liner a threat to them because there are rumors about British ships carrying ammunition."

"Ammunition?"

"To aid the British and French forces fighting the Germans. Since there's that possibility, the Germans are warning us Americans that any British ship…" he pointed to the list on the clippings. "specifically on this list, is a potential threat and therefore, game to be torpedoed and sunk by any German U-Boat that finds it!"

"What the hell?!" Combeferre said bewildered.

 **FRIDAY, MAY 7** **th** **, 1915**

 _ **RMS LUSITANIA**_

 **OFF THE COAST OF IRELAND**

Gavroche was leaning on the railing on the forecastle deck. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the coast that was up ahead of him.

Soon he would disembark in England, then take a boat to Ireland, and he would be home free. He was given enough money for passage, and to secure a room to rent for a short while. He kept everything in his satchel that he had strapped around his one shoulder.

He was walking along the deck by the railing when he thought he saw something on the horizon, facing the _Lusitania_ 's Starboard side.

It was like a little thin stick, sticking up out of the water.

Gavroche had no idea he was staring at a periscope.

 **!**

Eponine was dressed in a western cowgirl outlaw outfit, with a leather skirt, red vest over a white blouse, country boots, and a black Stetson. She was cast as the heroine in Marion's newest Western production.

She was on the set of a bar and there were several actors standing about for their cues.

Marion had walked up past the large Kodak camera that was sitting on the large tripod that was pointing at Eponine.

"Okay, now for this scene, you've been tracking down this brute, and you find him in a bar. He's the crook responsible for burning down your house and murdering your family. Your motivation here, is revenge!" Marion said, giving her directions.

A prop master had hustled over and gave Eponine a Colt .45. She was eye wide.

"Now don't panic." Marion said. "The gun only has blanks in it. Now here's the action!"

She walks over to the swinging doors on set.

"When I say action, you will enter the bar from these doors, and firmly walk your way to this little spot right here!" Marion mimicked the actions by walking up to the little "x" that was made in chalk on the floor.

"Once you get to your spot, the actor playing the brute will stand up and take his position.

I want you to silently count to five, before pulling your gun out…" Marion took Eponine's gun and placed it in her holster. "And pulling the trigger. Now as I mentioned, this gun has blanks. No real bullets will come out. He will only pretend to clutch his chest like he was just shot, as he falls to the ground. Understand?" Marion asked.

Eponine nodded. "Ready whenever you are."

Marion then called around the set. "Places everybody!"

Eponine walked out through the swinging doors.

"Rolling Camera!" Marion called out.

The camera operator began rotating the crank. "Rolling!" he said.

"Background action…and ACTION!" Marion shouted.

Eponine shoved the doors past as she stomped to her spot. She produced a glare in her eyes. Marion noticed a couple of background actors kind of flinched at the entrance. Good, she thought. It shows the authenticity.

When the "brute" actor got to his position, Eponine counted in her head.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

And before the brute actor could grab his holster, Eponine whipped out her gun and pulled the trigger, slightly flinching at the loud pop the gun made.

And right on cue, the actor dropped his gun from the holster, clutched his stomach, threw his head back in exaggerated pain, stumbled forward, collapsed on his knees and landed on his face.

"And…Cut!" Marion said.

 **!**

Marion and Eponine were chatting away as they were exiting the studio. They were met by Chief Investigator Bell and Frank, leaning against Frank's car.

Frank had a grim expression on his face; Bell looked no better. Eponine could tell something terrible had happened.

"Eponine…darling…you'd better sit down."

At 2:10 pm on May 7th, 1915, German U-Boat #20 had launched one torpedo against the _RMS Lusitania_ and struck in the cargo hold just below the first funnel. Nearly four seconds after the impact, a second explosion occurred.

Because of the severity of the damage, _Lusitania_ listed dangerously to Starboard. Only six of the forty-eight lifeboats were successfully launched.

The entire ocean liner went down in a matter of only eighteen minutes.

There were 1,962 passengers and crew aboard the ship. Only seven hundred and sixty-one survived.

But this was also a spark of an International Crisis; There were 139 Americans who sailed. 128 of them had perished.

Britain and the United States were outraged to say the least.

Eponine was in hysterics by the time they had reached their home in Cape May. Bell had issued every order within his power to find out if her brother had survived. It was a painstaking three days.

But on the fourth day, Bell received a wire.

Gavroche had survived and is uninjured.

Gavroche was thrown back from the impact of the torpedo's collision. When he leaned over the railing to find out what happened, the second explosion threw him overboard, as well as one of the lifeboats that was knocked off from its davits. Luckily, Gavroche was able to climb in nearly right away. He managed to pull a few survivors in.

"I knew something like this would happen! I fecking knew it!" Eponine said, trying to wipe away her tears.

"But what's important is he is alive and well, darling. Have faith! Everything will be alright" Frank said, as he was consoling his wife.

But as he looked at Bell for reassurance, he knew from Bell's face that there wasn't.

America was not going to let this go unanswered.

 _Those who falter and those who fall must pay the price._


	2. Chapter 2

**JUNE 6** **th** **, 1916**

 **BATTLE OF VERDUN**

 **FRANCE**

Cpl. Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire was not a fighter. He was a struggling poet. He was a pursuer of peace and love and tranquility.

So why was he loading his Fusil Gras Modèle 1874 M80 Bolt Action Rifle and aiming it at fellow human beings?

Because he heard the cry of France reaching out to him.

When The Great War broke out, his new wife Mary DuFontaine, was successful in preventing Jean from answering the Call of Duty.

But recently, Jean was anxious to answer it, and so in the early year of 1916, Jean sailed across the Atlantic, and back to his home country in France.

What he saw was devastating. France was not France at all.

Instead, his country land was gray, skies and ground. Not a single tree could be seen for miles.

Bunkers. Trenches. Explosions. Gunfire.

This was not France. This was Hell!

Jean was assigned to the French Second Army. He had been stationed at Verdun for several weeks now. Things were not turning out in the favor of the French.

"HERE THEY COME, MEN!" Jean's Commanding Officer shouted. "Take Aim!"

"FIRE!" He bellowed.

Jean aimed his rifle and fired.

The German Army was advancing through the trenches, taking cover whenever possible.

Prouvaire and his regiment were positioned in a small bunker on the highest hill of their side of the battlefield.

For the past hour, the French have been ordered to fall back. This was going to be their ultimate last stand if need be.

Jean ducked for cover as he reloaded his single-shot rifle. A part of him felt as if he was in this kind of scenario from a different lifetime.

"Choose Bayonets!" His Officer shouted, as he fired his revolver at the Germans.

Jean pulled out his bayonet blade from his holster, and attached it to his rifle.

Soon the Germans were advancing. Jean fired his rifle again, and ducked for cover before a German soldier could climb over the edge.

Jean thought about the condition of his home and country, as he rushed the German and bayoneted him to oblivion.

He then turned his attention to a second German who was about to do the same to him. Jean swung his rifle at the attacker, and caught a glimpse of a third German about to aim.

Without wasting a moment, Jean rammed the butt of his rifle into the Second German's stomach, forcing the latter to drop his rifle, giving Jean a chance to grab it.

Then in a fluid motion, Jean grabbed the German and held him up as a shield in time for the Third German to fire.

Dropping the now dead German in his grasp, Jean picked up the dead soldier's rifle and fired it at the third German. When he saw that it was clear, he looked around to see the rest of his comrades cheering.

The Germans were repulsed. This was the second time in the past day that they've tried to advance.

The French soldiers were cheering in victory, except for the Officer.

"Mon Lieutenant!" Jean approached the Officer. "What is the matter? We've driven them off!"

The Officer looked at Jean. "We drive them off a third time and we'll be out of ammunition!"

 **!**

Jean understood what the Officer was talking about. Twice the Germans charged and blew recall. The Third time is always the deadliest.

Jean knew that when the Germans would advance again, there would be no retreat. They would either take this position or die trying. Jean had to think of a way to buy time for the French.

That was when his eyes caught something down the hill.

"Lieutenant!" Jean called out to the Officer to get his attention. He pointed down the hill.

It was a cannon. A Canon de 75 modèle 1897 moving artillery piece.

"A magnificent idea, Corporal. But unfortunately, we are also critical on artillery ammunition."

"But…" Jean began. "We have cloth, and small rocks and gravel, and perhaps some pebbles of rubble from the fort. Perhaps we can create makeshift grape-shots?"

The Officer pondered the idea. "You're a genius! Take three men with you!" The Officer ordered.

Jean led his three friends, Callard, Marcel, and Pierre down to where the cannon was positioned.

Earlier, Callard had emptied his knapsack of everything and took it with him. When they got to the cannon, he salvaged as much artillery ammunition as he could get. Maybe at least 6 or 7 shells.

Marcel and Pierre stood in front of the cannon and helped to push while Jean and Callard pulled the latch that was used to tow cannons.

They were about halfway up the hill when…

"Incoming!"

Three explosions shook the ground. The third one hit too close to home.

When the smoke cleared, Marcel and Pierre were slumped against the wheels.

"Callard!" Jean said. "Give me the shells!"

"You're crazy!"

"We'll never get the cannon back in time! Just grab the grape-shots and get back here! Go!" Jean shouted.

Callard hesitated before running up the hill.

Jean acted quickly, as he could see the smoke against the trenches begin to clear, as the Germans were slowly advancing.

Jean threw the first shell into the cannon's mouth piece, then ran to the cranks and adjusted it accordingly.

When everything was checked, he pulled the chain and the cannon fired.

From what the Officer could see, a large explosion took place overhead of the Germans, causing dozens of them to fall to the ground dead.

When Jean saw that the rest of the Germans dove into the trenches, he took the chance to reload again.

Callard was hustling everyone for the bags of grape shots.

Jean pulled the chain again. Maybe a few less Germans were killed in the explosion this time.

He checked Callard's knapsack. The rest of the shells, unfortunately were spent. They couldn't be used.

Jean turned around just in time to see Callard running towards him

 _CRACK!_

Callard jerked his head back, dropped his bag and fell forward with a thud.

Jean crawled over to his body to see the damage.

A Sniper must've gotten him. The bullet hole was in the man's head.

Jean muttered a quiet _Vive La France_ before grabbing the grape shot and lodging it into the cannon's mouth piece.

But as he returned to crank the gun lower, he felt a sudden blinding piercing rip through his thigh as he collapsed.

Jean was hit by a bullet. The pain was extraordinary…

But he could not let this be the reason that France could fall! It was now or never.

The Germans were at least 40 yards away, when Jean crawled to the chain, grabbed a firm hold of it, and yanked the chain.

In an instant, at least thirty-five more Germans were knocked down dead.

Just then, Jean could hear a whistle being blown from behind him.

The French had stormed down the hill to finish off the remaining Germans that attempted to charge.

The Officer knelt down beside Jean.

"You are going to be alright, Prouvaire!" He said, as he fired his revolver again.

By the end of the day, the French had held off the German advances, buying them time to regroup and fall back.

But Jean Prouvaire had had his war.

 **!**

Several weeks later, he was honorably discharged from the French Army, and was awarded for his extreme heroism.

When he returned to America, he returned with a Hero's welcome. But he was not the same Prouvaire as he left…

 **!**

Just when no one would've thought it could happen again, it did. On November 21st, 1916, _His Majesty's Hospital Ship_ (HMHS) _Britannic_ , on her way to the Mediterranean, had stuck a German placed underwater mine off the coast of Kea, and sank within the hour. There were 1,065 people aboard the hospital ship. Thankfully they were not delivering patients/wounded soldiers this particular voyage.

And surprisingly, only thirty people have lost their lives, and in a rather disturbing way.

When the ship struck the mine, she had lost control of her engines, and when she was listing to the starboard bow, her propellers were still churning and halfway out of the water.

Two lifeboats were launched without permission, and were tragically caught in the propeller's path, killing thirty.

One lucky survivor was Nurse Violet Jessop who really was a remarkable woman; she had served as a stewardess to the _RMS Olympic_ when she collided with the _HMS Hawke_ , and had also survived the _Titanic_.

But this was the final blow for White Star Line.

 _RMS Olympic_ had continued to live a long and healthy life, re-painted with war paint to confuse her enemies. Her ramming of a German U-Boat had earned her the title "Old Reliable."

Other ships in the _Titanic_ story were not so lucky. The _SS Californian_ , which stayed in its spot the night of the sinking and didn't save a soul was torpedoed in November of 1915. And the _RMS Carpathia_ , which was on the other end of the spectrum, a Hero's ship for rescuing the 710 survivors, was torpedoed in 1917.

 _RMS Olympic_ had continued her service as a passenger liner well after The Great War ended in 1918, until she was sold for scrap in 1935.

But now, at long last, it is time for us to put the stories of these shipwrecks back on the shelves and now, look to the future for the survivors and their loved ones.

Jean and Mary had three children, Doug, Judy and Thomas. The two boys signed on with the United States Air Corps in 1939. Due to his injuries in the war, Jean would walk with a cane for the rest of his life.

Julien Lesgles and his wife Clara Musichetta Lesgles had a daughter in 1920 named Marilyn. Just like her mother, she wanted to become a nurse, and graduated Nursing school with flying colors.

Eponine and Franklin ended up having three more children: Patrick, James, and Azelma, the last two being named after their lost ones.

Franklin moved up in the world of telegraphy and was eventually approached by Military Intelligence. Soon, he and his family had relocated to Washington DC.

 **!**

Let us now jump ahead several years.

It is the beginning of October, in the year 1941.

A new political power has risen and consumed Germany. The Nazis, led by Adolf Hitler. Soon their influence began to spread as they annexed Austria. But they took it a step too far, by using violent means to invade its neighboring country, Poland in 1939.

Great Britain and France declared war on Germany and its Ally, Fascist Italy led by Benito Mussolini.

Much to Jean and Julien's grief, France has fallen the following year.

In 1941, the Japanese Empire had signed a pact of Alliance with Germany and Italy. This proved to be quite a threat; especially since they've already massacred China.

The United States took action, and relocated its Pacific Military Fleet from San Diego, to the Island of Oahu, Hawaii…at Pearl Harbor.

This relocation, had put an embargo on Japan's supply of oil. Their option was to either withdraw from its war with China, or to find another source of oil.

Diplomatic tensions were beginning to grow.

History was repeating itself.


	3. Chapter 3

**OCTOBER 10** **th** **1941**

 **U.S. NAVY INTELLIGENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C.**

Eponine Combeferre was forty-seven now. Her Irish accent had faded into history as she adapted into the American ways. The same went for her forty-nine-year-old husband, Col. Franklin Combeferre of US Navy Intelligence. Next year would be their 30th wedding anniversary. And they had five grown children and felt life couldn't be more bliss.

Every morning that Eponine would drive her husband and their eldest daughter, 27-year old Veronica Combeferre to work, she felt as if she were on cloud nine.

Veronica was a very attractive young woman. She inherited her mother's dark wavy hair but sadly, Frank's poor eyesight. But her taste in glasses compensated her vision. Her clothing style was a white buttoned blouse underneath a sweater, and black skirts.

She worked as Personal Assistant to her Father, who was working on something that wasn't meant to be discussed lightly for security purposes.

Frank worked with Navy Lt. Com. Alvin D. Kramer, and Army Col. Rufus G. Bratton, on a secret project called "Operation Magic."

Because of the rise in diplomatic tensions, America had suspected that Japan would deliver coded messages from Tokyo to their own embassy right here in Washington. The task of Operation Magic was to intercept any messages delivered between the two, and decode their messages.

Frank couldn't tell his wife what the messages were in detail, just enough so that she understood what it is that he does to earn his government wage.

"It just doesn't seem right…" Eponine said as she was driving their 1941 Cadillac Sixty Special. "Doesn't it come close to spying on other countries' affairs?" she asked.

Franklin sighed. "Well, I personally am not a fan of it myself, but we must remember: Any information that could lead to war is vital to us. We have to be prepared, and to do that, we need to know what the enemy knows."

Eponine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "But they're not the enemy. We're not at war."

"My dear…I do not wish to argue. But we must put this in perspective. Think about what happened to Poland. If they had any suspicions that the Nazis would invade, wouldn't you want them to have a project such as this?"

Eponine sighed. "I guess you're right."

Veronica smiled to herself. This is why she's never seen her parents argue or have any fights that last for more than five minutes. Her mother would voice whatever concern was in her mind, and her father would reassure her and instill logic in her mind. And he'd always find a way to let logic seep into her mind, thus eradicating her worries.

In her opinion, her parents had the perfect marriage and she sometimes grew envious of it.

"I just…I don't want us to go into war…Not again." Eponine said. "Our sons are in the military. Doesn't that phase you?"

"Of course it does, darling. But you and I both know that they needed to spread their wings eventually. Alan loves the sea and Patrick and James love to fly."

"Well…at least they're all together in the same area. That makes it less of a worry for me." Eponine conceded.

Frank laughed. "I'd imagine they'd be having the time of their lives down there. Not including all of the pretty hula girls." He joked.

Eponine responded by playfully smacking Franklin on the arm.

"I've seen the postcards, Mom." Veronica added. "I have to say, you couldn't ask for a more perfect place to be stationed in. The scenery is just…breathtaking!"

Frank nodded. "Pearl Harbor is certainly a paradise."

 **!**

Eponine pulled to the curb at the entrance of Frank's building, and bid him and their daughter goodbye as they walked into work.

Their last daughter, Azelma, was attending college in New York. So that was one less of a Combeferre that Eponine had to worry about, with everyone else somehow being involved in the war.

Gavroche Thenardier became quite a fighter. He left Ireland and joined the British in defense against the German Luftwaffe raids and played a major role in the Battle of Britain. He returned back to the United States after his commission was up, and had promised Eponine to never go out to sea again, no matter what circumstances. Now he resides with Azelma for company, and works as a shopkeeper.

Frank and Veronica entered their office amidst the loud commotion of the banging of typewriters and papers being passed around. Veronica walked over to her desk and went straight to work, while Frank opened the door that said "NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT OFFICIAL AUTHORIZATION."

He set down his briefcase with its own little lock, and was greeted by Kramer and Bratton. "Morning Gentlemen. Has anything new happened?"

Kramer shook his head. "No. Tokyo hasn't sent anything to their Embassy in three days now."

Combeferre nodded in acknowledgement. "And how are the peace talks going?"

Bratton sighed. "Well according to Secretary Hull, Ambassador Normura is talking in circles…on Tokyo's orders."

"How so?" Combeferre asked.

"Normura brings in these 'propositions' from Tokyo. Hull provides compromises for Normura to send back to Tokyo for approval. And what response does Tokyo give Normura?" Bratton asks Combeferre.

When Combeferre shakes his head indicating he doesn't know the answer, Kramer chimes in. "Tokyo sends propositions to counter the compromises."

Combeferre adjusted his glasses as he took a look at the decoded intercept documents. "You don't suppose they would be stalling for something, do you?"

"What could they be stalling for?" Bratton asked.

Combeferre pondered on that question, then shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind. It's impossible."

 **!**

Veronica had just pulled out her tenth document from the typewriter in a record breaking speed of seven minutes.

It was then that she looked up and saw someone walking towards her.

Of course. It was her work-crush, Cpt. Kyle Beauregard, Military Intelligence. He certainly put the 'Beau' in Beauregard, that's for sure.

"Hello, Miss Combeferre!" He said in a chipper crisp voice.

"Good morning, Captain."

The handsome Kyle Beauregard, at least thirty-years old, had a strong cleft, piercing hazel eyes, and brown sleek hair. Plenty of girls Veronica's age have swooned over him. Veronica felt like she could never stand a chance with him.

Kyle walked up to Veronica's desk and handed her two documents.

"The top one goes to the three main guys in there." Kyle motioned towards her father's office behind her. "And this one…I thought perhaps you'd be interested in solving."

"Solving?" Veronica asked.

"It's my understanding that you like to solve puzzles yourself?" Kyle asked.

Veronica adjusted her glasses. "How did you know?"

Kyle put a finger to his lips. "Careful, Miss Combeferre. Anything said in here is kept confidential!" He winked as he walked away, leaving Veronica's breath hitched.

Without wasting a minute, she stood up and walked over to the door behind her, and knocked on it before entering.

"This just came in from Cpt. Beauregard, sir." She handed the document to Col. Bratton.

"Thank you, Miss Combeferre. Let us know when you have the…" Bratton was about to say before Veronica came back with the ten papers she had just typed up. "…documents I asked for…"

Veronica smiled as she exited the office.

"Remarkable daughter, Combeferre. How do you do it?"

Combeferre smiled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Every time I come home to my wife, I ask myself the same question."

 **!**

Meanwhile, Veronica looked closely at the note Kyle gave to her personally.

 **CTVNTLAOECTVRHLHWEEAUAE?**

She wasn't sure what to make of it. She's studied different code-breaking methods since college so this should be a cinch to her.

About a minute later, she realized it was a Caesar's Box code. So she counted the characters including the "?". There were 24 characters, so she drew a little 6x4 box, wrote the letters from left to right starting at the top, and then looked at the letters again but this time, going vertically from top to bottom starting on the left. Writing the letters as she went along, this is what she came up with.

 **CARETOHAVELUNCHATTWELVE?**

Veronica looked up at a smiling Kyle from across the room. She silently kicked herself. Why did she have to fall for his killer smile?

Then she remembered; like mother like daughter…

 **!**

Eponine sat at her kitchen table playing Bridge with three of her close-knit friends: Mrs. Clara Lesgles, Mrs. Deena Lancefield, and Mrs. Mary Prouvaire.

"How is your husband doing, Mary?" Eponine asked about Jehan.

Mary sighed. "He spends most of his days either painting or writing."

Clara looked confused. "I thought he _wanted_ to take up writing. You sounded sad just now."

"It's just…he prefers to isolate himself when he does so. He himself seems sad. He's improved over the past few years, but ever since war broke out in Europe…it's like he's gotten worse."

Eponine nodded. She knew _exactly_ what Jean was going through: traumatic neurosis. She and Deena had first-hand experience of what it can do to someone, having awoken Combeferre from his night terrors in the months after the _Titanic_ sinking.

"Does it give him pain to think about…well…your children…?" Deena struggled to find the right words.

Mary shrugged her shoulders. "Douglas and Thomas have both been very careful with what they send to my husband. They only send postcards of Waikiki Beach, Diamond Head, some of the more scenic spots of Hawaii, but never anything about their military posts."

Clara picked up her set of cards as she chipped in. "I wonder if they've stumbled across my daughter yet."

"Marilyn?" Eponine asked, referring to Clara's daughter. "Given that she's Head Nurse at the Navy Hospital, I certainly hope it would take a long time before they're acquainted!" she chuckled.

Mary couldn't help her smile. "Well she's got my darling little Judy to keep her company."

Deena smiled too, thinking about her own son. "Harry's been meaning to invite them all up to his estate up in the hills. He's very well established down there!"

Eponine held Deena's arm in comfort. "After writing that radio play which raised millions of dollars in war bonds, I would be shocked if he wasn't! I'm pretty sure he'd do well with a special citation from the Navy Department."

"Speaking of Navy…" Deena responded. "I have a sneaking suspicion that my neighbor's son may have taken a liking to your daughter, dear Eponine."

Eponine looked at Deena while she was shuffling the cards. "The Beauregard kid? Isn't he known throughout Washington as a playboy of sorts?"

Clara chimed in. "A common misconception. He never sleeps around with girls his age. Just because he's never been in a serious relationship doesn't mean that he's necessarily loose. He just…hasn't found the right one yet."

"And you believe my Veronica is the one for him?" Eponine asked Clara.

Clara rolled her eyes.

"But this kid is actually quite genuine. Sure, all of the girls around town practically swoon over him, but he doesn't really notice. I've actually seen the way he gets all shy like around your daughter. And let's face it, 'Ponine. She has your looks, so you've no argument there!" Deena commented.

"But I am her mother and she's very precious to me. Argument revived!" Eponine responded.

Deena shrugged her shoulders. "Just seems like a good match that's all. Wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't right for her."

Eponine spent the rest of the Bridge game pondering that last sentence.

After all, Veronica is 27. She's old and smart enough to make her own choices…it's no different than when Alan, Patrick and James enlisted. Plus…maybe it's not so hard to believe that someone genuine and kind could take a liking to her daughter. It's already happened to her.

She decided she would ask her husband about it, and see what he thinks. Half of the time she still refers to Frank as her husband because she just loves to hear the words come out of her own mouth.

 **!**

By the end of the day, Bratton, Kramer and Combeferre had left their office to let their aides close up.

Combeferre caught a glimpse of his daughter and Kyle silently waving each other goodnight.

When the two of them were waiting at the curb for Eponine to pick them up, Combeferre decided now was a good time as any to ask her.

"I noticed that you went to lunch with that Beauregard kid?" He approached.

"Oh…yeah. It was kind of silly. He had a subtle way of asking. Dad, did you tell him I like to solve puzzles?" she asked him.

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? He asked me what your hobbies were, and I mentioned that you like to solve puzzles."

"You two were talking about me?" She asked, concerned.

"Oh nothing but good things, sweetie. Not to worry."

"Well, I would've preferred if you asked me first if it was okay to talk about my personal life with him."

"Oh…I'm sorry dear. I didn't think you wouldn't be alright with that. I just believed it was just a good conversation with the young man."

"I understand…I mean, he meant well. Dad? Do you…think…he's taken a liking to me?" Veronica asked.

Frank's heart dropped. This was a moment he was fearing since the day his wife ( _he loved saying that word just as much_.) gave birth to the twins.

Granted, she was _very_ well behaved in her teenage years. She was nothing like her parents when they were her age thank you very much ( _That's how she was brought onto this Earth in the first place!_ )!

But now at long last, his first daughter was asking her questions about a boy. Was he the right person to ask though? He wasn't sure.

"Veronica, pumpkin…I think this may be something you would need to ask your Mother. She can sense these things better than I can. The only way I could be of help to you is if I have a simple conversation with the boy again, and try in a subtle way to get from him his feelings towards you."

Veronica looked at her father. "You know what? I'll ask Mom."

Combeferre chuckled as he put his arm around her shoulder, just in time for Eponine's car to pull up to the curb.

 **!**

After having dinner (Eponine makes the best Chicken with Mashed Potatoes by the way!), Eponine found Combeferre sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

"Haven't seen you with this look in years. It doesn't suit you, you know."

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "Has Veronica talked to you while you two were setting the table?"

"She did mention something about this Beauregard boy. I think she likes him."

"Oh…that's good I suppose. I think he likes her too."

"That's what Deena suspected." Eponine said, as she was walking into her closet to change into her nightgown.

Combeferre got up to his dresser and mirror, and began loosening his tie. "Dear?" He called out to her.

"Mhmm?" he heard from behind the door.

"Are we good parents?" He asked.

Eponine stopped what she was doing and peeked around her door. "You can't be serious!"

"I mean…our eldest daughter is 27 now. And we're both very protective of her. Shouldn't we be letting her make her own choices, instead of debating on whether or not to play matchmaker?"

Eponine emerged in her nightgown and crossed her arms as she stared at Franklin. "You're right on one count: She is our eldest daughter. And also the most forethought one. She knows what she is doing. I think it's time for us to just retire our bodyguard outfits on her. She's a grown woman. If she wants to find out if this man really likes her, it's time for us to just let her find out for herself."

Combeferre sighed as he plopped back down on the bed.

"I only held her in my arms for the first time yesterday…" He muttered.

Eponine gave a sympathetic laugh as she laid down on the bed next to him. "I know. These past 29 years went by so fast. But you know what? I wouldn't trade them for the world."

He looked at her and smiled. "Neither would I." And then the two of them kissed.


	4. Chapter 4

**OCTOBER 15** **th** **, 1941**

 _ **U.S.S. ARIZONA**_ **, BATTLESHIP ROW**

 **PEARL HARBOR, OAHU, THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS**

The Island of Oahu, also known as "The Gathering Place" is the third largest island of the Hawaiian Islands, which sit peacefully in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Of course, peace could be controversial to some people, considering Oahu's main inhabitant: The United States Pacific Fleet, stationed at Pearl Harbor.

The Fleet had originally relocated from San Diego to Pearl in 1887, but due to recent conflicts in the Japanese-Chinese War since 1937, the United States formed an Embargo, cutting Japan off from gaining further supplies in oil, which was crucial to being victorious in its dominance of Southern Asia.

The U.S. Navy was complimented with 8 Battleships, 2 Heavy Cruisers, 6 Light Cruisers, 30 Destroyers, 4 Submarines, 23 Mine Warfare ships, 13 Patrol ships, 28 Auxiliary ships, 27 Service Crafts, and 4 Coast Guard Vessels.

The eight Battleships were the icons of Pearl Harbor. 7 of them were lined up in their own little section docked off of Ford Island, which sat in the middle of the Harbor. This little section was named Battleship Row.

The _U.S.S. California_ (BB-44) was stationed at the most southern part of Ford Island. The fifth battleship to be named after a State, she was the last American ship to be built on the West Coast, and was the only one to be a dreadnought type.

Behind her were two more battleships that were tied together: The _U.S.S. Oklahoma_ (BB-37)and the _U.S.S. Maryland_ (BB-46). _Oklahoma_ is a veteran battleship, and had served as an escort for many American convoys crossing the Atlantic to aid the Allies for the Great War, and now sits on the outside of the row. _Maryland_ was nicknamed "Old Mary" or "Fighting Mary" by her crewmates. For a while, she served as a flagship cruising to Australia, New Zealand, and Brazil.

Behind those two ships were the _U.S.S. West Virginia_ (BB-48) and _U.S.S. Tennessee_ (BB-43). _West Virginia_ had participated in exercises in engineering and gunnery courses, winning four medals in the latter. She's performed in other naval tactical development operations until 1939, when she was transferred to Pearl the next year. Now she rests behind _Oklahoma_. The _Tennessee_ was the head of her class of battleships, and was the third ship to be named after a state. She resides behind the _Maryland_.

Behind the _West Virginia_ , rests a small repair ship, the _U.S.S. Vestal_ (AR-5). Repair ships are auxiliary ships that provide maintenance and repairs to warships; they are like a Medic to its soldiers on the battlefield.

To her right, and sitting behind the _Tennessee_ , lies the Pride of the Pacific fleet: The _U.S.S. Arizona_ (BB-39). _Arizona_ was amongst a group of American ships that escorted President Woodrow Wilson to the Paris Peace Conference. She also made motion picture history by serving as the location for the 1934 Romantic Comedy film, "Here Comes the Navy", starring James Cagney and Gloria Stuart.

I will take a moment now to mention that Gloria was nominated for an Oscar 63 years later for her performance as "Old Rose" in the 1997 Romantic Drama, "Titanic".

And lastly, sitting behind _Arizona_ is _U.S.S. Nevada_ (BB-36). _Nevada_ was the head of two _Nevada_ -Class Battleships; her sister being _Oklahoma_. She was an advance in dreadnought technology. She used oil instead of coal for fuel, her turrets were all triple gunned, and she had geared steam turbines for greater range. She was the Navy's first "Super-Dreadnought".

The last battleship to complete the eight was the _U.S.S. Pennsylvania_ (BB-38). She was the head of her class, and during the Fall of 1941, had been stationed inside a dry-dock for maintenance. She was accompanied by Destroyers _U.S.S. Cassin_ and _Downes_.

 **!**

27-year old Lieutenant Alan Combeferre stepped down from the ladder that lead to the main mast tower that hovered over the main deck of the _Arizona_. He was soon accompanied by the _Arizona_ 's Captain, Franklin Van Valkenburgh.

"Another perfect day." Valkenburgh said.

"Yes sir! I've been wondering if it ever rains here for more than 15 minutes." Alan said.

Valkenburgh laughed. "I think 15 minutes may seem excessive. I'd say 10!"

Alan smiled as the two of them walked along the Main Deck of their ship. His focus began to turn to the big beautiful green mountains hovering over the other side of the Harbor.

"What's on your mind, son?" Valkenburgh asked.

"I was just wondering if we'd be able to see that new radar station they've been talking about."

Valkenburgh laughed. "One, it wouldn't be tall enough to surpass the trees up in those mountains. Two, if it was already set up, it would most likely be stationed at Opana Point, all the way on the Northern side of this island. There's no way in hell we'd be able to see her.

"And Three, the last I heard, they still haven't gotten permission from the Hawaiian National Park."

Alan rolled his eyes. "We annexed this island, you'd think that it would be within our prerogative to set up the station wherever we deem it necessary!"

Valkenburgh shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm not so sure that we'd have much need for the radar. I've just spoken with Admiral Kimmel and General Short. They don't believe that an air raid is possible here."

"How so?" Alan asked.

"Take a good look at our harbor." Valkenburgh pointed to the water they were looking over. "The entire Harbor is protected by an anti-submarine net that is further guarded by 24/7 patrols. So there's no chance of any submarines possibly infiltrating the base. Furthermore, the deepest part of this entire harbor is 40ft maximum. And a torpedo dropped from that of an aircraft, must by logic, descend to 75ft before leveling off."

Alan nodded. His superior was well spoken. "Well, if they're not concerned with an air raid, what ARE they concerned with?" he asked.

 **HICKAM AIRFIELD**

 **SOUTHWEST OF PEARL HARBOR**

"Sabotage?" Alan's younger brother, 25-year old Patrick Combeferre asked, dumbfounded. "The big guys are concerned about sabotage?"

His younger brother, 24-year old James Combeferre, shrugged his shoulders. "That's what Alan said to me earlier today. It could explain why all of the planes are being rearranged…"

Patrick and James Combeferre, both Army Lieutenants of the U.S. Pacific Air Corps, are stationed at Hickam Airfield.

The reason that the 390 aircrafts were being repositioned, were, as James had put it, sabotage.

It was one thing for Japan to launch some sort of an attack. The very idea had been tossed around by Kimmel and Short once or twice. But the fact remains that there is a very huge majority of Japanese civilians occupying the islands of Hawaii, mainly Oahu. So sabotage was of bigger concern.

Rather than risk the planes be blown up by 'enemy agents' at night in their own isolated hangers, General Walter Short commissioned the order to have all planes stationed together on the runways of Hickam, Bellows, and Wheeler Airfields. This way, 90% of the aircraft can be under surveillance.

But this also made them easy targets in the unlikely event of an air raid.

"Well that's all I know." James continued. "Or at least that's all that Alan was able to tell me. You know: security reasons." He rolled his eyes.

"Eh…I still think the whole idea is downright ridiculous." Patrick said.

James shrugged his shoulders again. "General's orders."

 _ **U.S.S. OKLAHOMA**_

 **BATTLESHIP ROW**

Seamen Douglas and Thomas Prouvaire were off duty and in their quarters, each on a bunk bed.

20-year old Thomas had his postcards laid out on his bed.

"You know, Tom, you don't have to send Mom and Dad a postcard EVERY single weekend." 22-year old Doug said.

"Oh, no this one's being sent to Godfather Lesgles. Thought he could use it." Tom corrected.

"Don't they have a daughter to send them stuff?" Doug asked, referring to Marilyn.

"Yeah but this is a thank-you card for sending me the article that published Dad's latest poem."

Doug nodded as he laid back down on his cot staring at the ceiling. "I'm surprised it was actually published."

Tom looked over at his brother. "The man's a genius. Why wouldn't it be?"

Doug looked back at Tom. "He's also a depressed genius. He writes some seriously sad shit sometimes! I'm surprised the Pre-Code hasn't done anything to them."

Tom agreed. "War's crazy."

"Well not only that…" Doug began, before Tom nodded. He knew what his brother was talking about.

"Man…it's almost too surreal, how one can be surrounded by so much death, and many of them his loved ones…" Tom reflected. "And to think at one point he wrote poetry about life, peace, and love."

Doug sighed. "Thank god we have The Lesgles' to keep an eye on him. Sometimes I feel like it may get overwhelming for Mother."

"Can't think of why not." Tom said. "She's no stranger to loss either…" He was referring to their mother's late ex-lover, Henri Courfeyrac.

"Whelp…" Doug began. "Let's just pray to the Almighty that you and I never have to go through THAT amount of pain."

"Yes sir!" Tom chuckled softly.

Doug then began to lean his head backwards, letting it hang over the edge of the bed.

His vision showed the rest of the quarters upside down.

It was then that he saw somebody enter the room.

"Afternoon, Carson." Doug said.

26-year old Dennis Carson, the eldest of three of Jack Carson's sons, greeted the two Prouvaires. "Did you boys get the invitations from Harry yet?"

Tom and Doug both sat up in their bunks. "Your cousin? I didn't know he lived down here!"

"Yeah he just moved in not too long ago. His radio play made him damn successful. So he bought himself a pretty fancy house, and he wants to invite his friends up for a house-warming."

"Will Charlie and Sam be going?" Doug asked.

"Sam might, but I don't know if Charlie will. He's stuck on duty tonight in the Mess Hall, so it most likely won't happen."

"And…will, uh…" Doug prodded.

Dennis laughed. "If she's not tied down at the Club, maybe."

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you can have Jane sing at the party. You know, free entertainment!" he nudged Dennis in the arm.

"Nah, I couldn't do that. We've only been going steady for about a few weeks."

"Ah, I get it." Doug began. "You don't believe in asking girls to sing at parties; you're waiting until marriage." He laughed.

That earned Doug a good shove that nearly knocked him out of his bunk.

 **U.S. NAVAL HOSPITAL**

 **SOUTHEAST OF PEARL HARBOR**

The telephone rang. 20-year old Judy Prouvaire picked it up as she straightened her hair.

"Thank you for calling the United States Naval Hospital. This is Judy speaking, how can I help you today?" She paused to hear the caller talk.

"Certainly, sir. We can make an appointment. What's the emergency?" She was ready to get out her calendar book when she quietly snickered.

"Oh, no it's ok! You needn't feel embarrassed! No, we get patients here for sunburn issues all the time! Trust me, you're hardly the first! Yeah…no don't worry! Our schedule's clean as a whistle. You can come in right now if you'd like! Okay! Great! Bye-bye!" And with that, Judy hung up the telephone.

The head Nurse, 22-year old Marilyn Lesgles walked in as soon as Judy was done talking. "Well?"

"Another sunburnt case." Judy replied.

Marilyn rolled her eyes. "Can't these dumb civilians ever get any injuries that aren't tropical-related?"

Judy shrugged her shoulders. "At least we're getting patients."

"What's the count, by the way? Including this one?" Marilyn asked.

Judy flipped all the way to the back of her notebook, where there was a tiny little tally score card.

"This last one amounts to three times. We have had only three patients come in here since September!"

Marilyn laughed. "This island's new advertisement campaign should be 'Come to Hawaii, where nobody gets injured, and a bunch of beautiful nurses are bored out of their minds!"

"Ha! Try 'bored out of their minds and in desperate need of the company of some willing and well-endowed men!' By the time the first hundred ads go out, we'll have enough enlisted men to claim all of Asia as their own." Judy said sarcastically.

Marilyn shivered at the last sentence. "Don't even joke about that, Judy. I can't ever imagine America ruling the world. Look what it's doing to Germany…"

Judy looked over at Marilyn as the latter sat down in her chair, before replying. "Marilyn, you've told me yourself there's no one you know back in France. Why does this still bother you?"

"Because it was my father's when he was my age. I can't imagine anything like that happening to us."

"Well it won't, because we're not in the war." Judy said.

Marilyn remained unconvinced.


	5. Chapter 5

**FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24** **th** **, 1941**

 **U.S. NAVY INTELLIGENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C.**

Combeferre was cleaning his glasses when there was a knock on the door. "Come in." He replied. Veronica entered with some documents.

"Here is the decoded information, sir. It's regarding Tokyo's response to Ambassador Normura's requests for resignation." She said, handing her father the documents.

"Thank you. Anything else?" Combeferre asked.

"Your wife called. She said she'll be leaving soon to come pick us up." Veronica responded, before exiting the office.

Rufus Bratton and Alvin Kramer looked at Combeferre bewildered. It took a minute before the latter looked up at them. "What?" he asked.

"The girl's been here for about six months and she still addresses you as sir? And her own mother as 'your wife'?" Kramer asked.

Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't sure if it would be unprofessional or anything for a Naval Officer of Military Intelligence to have his daughter address him as 'Father' while at work."

Bratton chuckled. "She cracks codes faster than you can type, Frank. I'm sure she can get away with calling you 'Father'. We're not faceless robots here."

Combeferre smiled before he began reading the reports. "Ouch…" he muttered.

"What?" Kramer asked.

"Remember when Ambassador Normura offered his resignation?" Combeferre asked.

"More than once." Bratton replied.

"Tokyo just won't let him quit. The poor old man's taking a beating from this job. So, they're sending a second Ambassador to help the man out. Some guy named Kurusu." Combeferre answered.

Kramer and Bratton could barely be heard as they both groaned in hesitation. Combeferre picked up on it.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Kurusu is the Ambassador to Germany. He signed that Tripartite Pact between Japan, Germany and Italy. That's the declaration that united the three countries into an Alliance."

"Oh…" Combeferre realized. "How does England feel about us continuing our negotiations with an Ally to their Enemy?"

"We're sending our own planes and boats over to help them out. With France rendered useless, we're the only help England has left against Hitler." Bratton said.

Combeferre's heart dropped to his chest. He knew exactly what Jean Prouvaire was going through when he learnt about France being endangered. So, it was no different for Combeferre to feel the same about his England.

Bratton could see the worry in Combeferre's face, and swatted him on the shoulder softly. "Don't worry, Frank. Hitler's called off the _Blitzkrieg_. They couldn't break your country during the Battle of Britain, they won't try again."

 **LATER THAT NIGHT...**

 **COMBEFERRE RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C.**

Franklin and Eponine were greeting their guests at the door. It became a monthly tradition for the Combeferres to host a dinner party for some of the top brass of U.S. Government. And the wives of Washington became instant fans of Eponine with her hosting and her famous gala-worthy dinners.

Eponine embraced Mr. and Mrs. Marius Pontmercy, and their daughter, Georgia. Ever since the war began in Europe, the Pontmercys have begun charity works to raise money in war bonds to aid the English. It was only fitting since Marius and his wife Cosette originally came from England.

Franklin shook hands with his dear friend, Cornelia Enjolras Harris and her husband, Senator Kenneth Harris. Franklin and Cornelia kept in touch on a regular basis, as he and her late brother were best friends back in their younger days. He congratulated the couple on Cornelia's rather noticeable news.

The Combeferres then greeted Mr. and Mrs. Julien Lesgles. "Are the Prouvaires coming tonight?" Clara asked Eponine. "I hope so." Eponine said. "Mary said that Jean was saying he would like to go."

Franklin and Julien sighed with sadness. "You know something, Julien? I don't know if Jean will ever be fully the same again."

Julien nodded in agreement. "It's funny…" He remarked. "When all of this began, I was the one who had the most difficulty."

Frank grimaced at the thought. After all, the man standing right next to him, had lost his memory from the shock of cold water, then regains his memory only to learn the loss of his best friend Joly Rivera. So, it was a strange turn of events to see their friend, the loving, caring, free-spirited Jehan Prouvaire, walking up the steps to the front door…limping on his cane. At least he was arm-in-arm with his lovely wife Mary.

"Jean! It's so good to see you!" Frank said offering his hand. Jean took it softly and said "Hmm…yeah. It…it's good to see you too."

Eponine's heart broke in front of them. Mary held tight onto Jean's arm. "Dearest?" She said trying to keep Jean from drifting off. "Eponine has an easel set up in the parlor. If you were feeling up to it, perhaps you would grace all of Washington D.C. with your talents?"

Jean looked over to his wife. "Hmm? Oh…sure." He sighed as he limped inside.

Jack Carson arrived next, with his wife Penny. They were shortly followed by Deena Lancefield and her husband Augustus.

Jack eventually became a full-fledged psychiatrist and specialized in trauma-related victims. Unfortunately, there weren't many others who exercised their studies in this field, so help was scarce. But the good news was he became Jean's personal therapist, helping in any way he could, just like the way he helped Frank in the beginning.

When Frank and Eponine were ready to go inside, they heard metal clinking against the brick staircase outside by their driveway.

They turned around to see Franklin Delano Roosevelt being pushed up the staircase in his wheelchair.

"Mr. President! My gosh, this is certainly a surprise!" Combeferre said, rushing over to assist Roosevelt up the stairs.

"I hope you didn't mind. It's just my wife just couldn't stop raving over Mrs. Combeferre's roasted chicken, so she insisted I pop over and see for myself. I do hope we're not intruding?" The elderly man asked.

Eponine clutched her chest. "Oh not at all, Mr. President! This is certainly a great honor!"

 **!**

"A great honor?" Franklin asked as he was putting the glasses onto a tray in the kitchen while Eponine was pulling the chicken out of the oven. "What? Was I supposed to say something else?"

Frank chuckled as he opened the fridge to grab a bottle of champagne. "No, dear. I just find it amusing. 30 years ago, you probably would've told him to drop dead at the mere sight of him!"

Eponine blushed. "No, Gavroche would've told him to drop dead. I certainly hope he doesn't, ever, come to think of it!"

"Which reminds me." Combeferre said, as he fidgeted around his pocket for something. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Eponine. "A little early Christmas present, darling." And then he kissed her on the cheek as she opened it.

She closed her mouth in shock as she ran straight into Combeferre's arms.

"They're coming home for Christmas. Gavroche sent that to me this morning. Azelma wanted to send it to you straight away, but Gavroche wanted a full report on your facial reaction." Combeferre laughed. Eponine shoved him in the shoulder.

 **!**

Veronica was walking around passing out glasses of champagne to the guests inside the parlor. She was soon met by Bratton and Kramer.

"Care for some champagne, sirs?" She asked them.

Kramer took his glass. "Certainly."

Bratton took his and remarked. "I noticed the bottle your father brought. It's a very good one. What was the occasion?"

"Well, it's the same as every month, sir. My mother hosted a little get together, her guests couldn't stop raving about her cooking, so they invited their friends to come and try for themselves. Now it's become a monthly tradition."

Her Godfather, Jack came up right next to her. "He's certainly adjusting to living a life of luxury now."

Bratton offered his hand. "You must be Carson. Is it true that you took Combeferre and his wife in when they first arrived here some 30 years ago?"

Jack took Bratton's hand and shook it firmly. "It was unexpected, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Back then, the two of them and her brother only had the clothes on their back, afraid, in unfamiliar territory. And now, here they are, serving champagne to the crème de la crème of Washington D.C. and playing host to the President of the United States."

The three of them raised their glasses. "To progress." Kramer said.

Just then, Veronica spotted Cpt. Beauregard standing outside on the back balcony. She quietly excused herself and greeted him.

"Champagne?" She offered. Kyle turned to meet her gaze before taking a glass. "Thank you. Would you care to join me?" he asked.

Veronica could feel her heartbeat speeding up a little. "Wish I could. But I still have to continue serving the others…"

"Nonsense!" her Father said before arriving and carefully taking the tray from Veronica's hands. "You've been a tremendous help with preparing earlier today. I insist!"

"Daddy!" Veronica tried to protest.

"It's really no trouble. Your mother and I can handle the party. You just go and enjoy yourself." Combeferre said before returning inside.

The two of them stood in silence for a good solid minute before Kyle broke it. "So…how long have you been working with your Father?"

"About six months. How long have you been in Naval Intelligence?" Veronica asked.

"A good two years." Kyle said, smiling.

Veronica admired his apparently award-winning smile for perhaps a few seconds too long before she snapped out of it. "I'm sorry…didn't we already cover this the other day during our lunch?"

Kyle chuckled. "Ah. Well that technically didn't happen. You sat there in silence the entire hour."

Veronica looked down at her hands in embarrassment. "I did?"

"Yeah. You had this look of concentration on your face." Kyle said.

"Oh yeah…I was trying to figure you out." Veronica said as-a-matter-of-fact like.

"Me? Whatever for?" he playfully asked.

"I was trying to figure out why in God's good humor you would choose to ask ME to lunch out of all of the pretty girls in our office…possibly in our branch." Veronica said timidly.

"That's what you were worried about?" Kyle asked.

"Yes." Veronica admitted.

"Why?"

"Because men like you usually don't go for women like me." She answered, pushing back her glasses and straightening her hair in place.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle asked, feeling a little insulted.

"Kyle…Cpt. Beauregard, sir…"

"Oh please. Office hours are over. You can drop the formalities around me. You were saying?"

"Well, Kyle, in case you haven't taken a good look at yourself, you're a rather attractive young man. You have girls all over Washington throwing themselves at you."

"And?" Kyle prodded.

"And I'm just a nobody, Kyle. I'm a secretary working for my Father. I have his eyesight and I prefer reading a book instead of going to the movies. Father told me that you asked him what I liked, and when he said I liked solving puzzles and codes, you used that to your advantage and asked me out to lunch. All I want to know is…why me?"

Kyle shrugged his shoulders. "You want me to be honest?"

Veronica turned around and leaned against the balcony railing and said softly "Yeah. It would help."

"Okay." Kyle said, clasping his hands. "Here's the deal. I'm fully aware that there are a lot of women that throw themselves at me."

Veronica rolled her eyes as he continued. "And I just can't stand it."

She turned around to look at him.

"Do you think I'm shallow? Do you think I only asked you out to lunch as some kind of practical joke, or as a pity date?

"Veronica, didn't you ever once consider the idea that I asked you out because I… like you?"

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

"Yeah…I do. I mean, you're smart, talented, funny. I'm just surprised no guy has ever approached you before."

Veronica chuckled before motioning towards the door. "I think I have a pretty good idea why."

"Oh…" Kyle said, realizing she was talking about her father. "Think they're all scared of him because he's a Commanding Officer, or because his wife can kill with glares?"

"Both. So it's understandable that he can be very protective of me." Veronica said.

Kyle shrunk back a little, feeling intimidated. Veronica noticed this before moving an inch further towards him. "However…he seems to think you're ok. So, that's gotta count for something." She smiled.

Kyle smiled back. "Yeah, I guess so."

 **!**

"Daddy Combeferre, playing Cupid." Eponine grumbled as she and Frank watched the two young ones out on the back balcony. "Real smooth." She said sarcastically.

"Hey, you're the one that said we should let THEM air out whatever the situation is. After a few days of going nowhere, I decided to just give it a little push."

Eponine laughed softly. Then she had a realization. "Just like your friends did with getting us together nearly 30 years ago?"

Frank pondered that question before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

This moment was briefly interrupted by Julien's hustled walk.

"Frank…we have a problem."

 **!**

Frank and Eponine walked through the crowd of guests, and went over to where Eponine stationed the easel. There, they saw Jean Prouvaire sitting back on the couch, his hands fidgeting around his cane.

"What happened?" Eponine asked Mary.

"Look at the painting." Mary responded.

Frank picked up the painting and examined it. His eyes widened. "Whoa…"

It was like a cartoon drawing, but certainly not one produced by Walt Disney Studios.

On the right side of the canvas, there was a giant black boot with a Nazi Swastika on the boot's buckle. The boot in question appeared to be squashing an old and defenseless man with the French Flag arm band. His hand was outstretched to the subject on the left.

The subject on the left was a rather snobby looking old man, with his nose turned up, and he was looking the other way. But what caused Frank and the others to worry, was the fact that this snobby man was in a wheel chair.

"I don't know if he's reaching out…or if this is some kind of a sick joke…" Mary began.

"No." Frank said. "I know what it is. He's angry with the President because we never helped when France fell. We're not doing anything to aid the Allies."

Just then, they could see the President wheeling himself over. "Ah, there's the man of the hour. What have you got there?"

Frank froze. He was holding in his hands an anti-Roosevelt poster, or at least that's what it might as well look like.

When Eponine noticed that her husband was lost for words, she did something no one thought possible. She jerked her hand holding her glass of champagne towards the canvas that Combeferre was holding.

"Oh dear me! That was completely clumsy of me! Let me just take this into the kitchen and see if I can still save the canvas!" She said before yanking the canvas out of Frank's hands and hustling towards the kitchen.

"Oh what a shame." Roosevelt said. "I was hoping to see it. I admire Mr. Prouvaire's work very much."

Mary sat down next to Jehan and said softly. "You hear that, Jehan? The President of the United States admires your work. Isn't that nice of him?"

Jean looked up at her and realized she was glaring at him with pleading eyes.

He picked up on the fact that despite how he felt towards America right now, he'd have to put his opinions behind him and pay his respect to its leader…at least for tonight.

"Oh…thank you, Mr. President. I'm flattered."

"Of course. It's a shame about that painting. Can you whip up another one?"

Julien quickly stepped in. "Hey, Jehan, you're good at drawing from memory. Can you recreate the wedding portrait for me and Clara?"

Jehan silently nodded as he propped himself up and began tracing lines along the blank canvas.

 **!**

Franklin rushed into the kitchen and grabbed Eponine tight and kissed her passionately.

When they broke the kiss, she exhaled. "Whoa…we haven't even served the appetizers yet!"

He smiled. "Right now, I'd rather skip to dessert. But we do have a party to tend to. I just wanted to thank you properly for stepping in the way you did."

"Just help me with the salad and you can thank me properly later tonight." She winked at him as she returned to the counter.

Franklin returned to the parlor where he nearly bumped into Jack.

"I thought you said he was improving…" he said quietly, looking in Prouvaire's direction.

"I did…his paintings were peaceful ones during our sessions."

Combeferre sighed. "Well apparently, it must've been the President's arrival that triggered something in Jean's brain. Perhaps you can focus your attentions on keeping Prouvaire's thoughts in check if there is someone or something in the room that can trigger his patriotism for France?"

"I'll see what I can do." Jack said.

Combeferre exhaled in relief and patted Jack's shoulder. "I know what you're capable of, Jack. That's why I trust your judgement."

 **SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25** **th** **1941**

 **LANCEFIELD RESIDENCE**

 **THREE MILES NORTH OF PEARL CITY, HONOLULU**

 **A/N: The Song that Jane sings won't be invented until 1947, but I couldn't find a better Love Song from '41 or earlier. Enjoy either way!**

The Combeferre brothers walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. The door opened and out came their good friend, 29-year old Harry Lancefield.

"Glad you all could make it!" Harry said, greeting each brother individually.

"Glad you could invite us!" Alan responded. "I hope you don't mind, we brought some company."

He motioned for the rest of the group to come forward.

Lt. Dick Parker and his newlywed wife Susan. Dick is also stationed aboard the _Arizona_ with Alan. Susan owns a little flower shop down in Pearl City. The couple had recently married here after meeting back on the mainland.

Petty Officer Bill Fowler also served with Alan and Dick. The three of them met during boot camp and all became good friends. His younger brother, Gary is stationed at Hickam along with James and Patrick.

They were soon met by Sgt. Dennis Carson, who came with his brothers Sam and Charlie, the latter whom managed to get out of duty tonight after all. Dennis walked arm-in-arm with the very lovely Jane Connor, the nightclub singer of Honolulu.

The Carsons arrived with their crewmates in tow:

Pvts. Roland Stevens and Carter Evans of the _Oklahoma_. They were both excited because this was their first weekend liberty they received since they joined the Marines. Carter was the more relaxed and thrill seeking of the two of them, while Roland was always more reserved and cautious.

"Patrick, James and I felt we might be overcrowded, so we had our friends bring extra refreshments. I hope this won't be a problem?"

"Hell no!" Harry said. "The more the merrier!"

Sam and Charlie nudged Dennis and Jane forward. "We didn't bring refreshments, but we did bring free entertainment!" Charlie said, motioning towards Jane, causing the latter to blush.

"Golly!" Harry exclaimed. "Jane Connor! The one and only! I've seen you perform a few times! This party just got a lot better already!"

Jane laughed shyly. "You're inflating my ego, Harry!"

Soon the rest of the crowd began to fill Lancefield's house and the party was underway.

 **!**

" _I saw a clothes-horse rear up and buck._

 _They tell me that a man made a vegetable truck!_

 _I didn't see that, I only heard!_

 _But just to be sociable, I'll take your word!"_

Jane sang while Bill played the piano. She was singing a jazzy rendition of a song from the recently released Walt Disney animated film _Dumbo_.

" _I heard a fireside chat; saw a baseball bat,_

 _And I laughed 'til I thought I could die!_

 _But I think I will have seen everything_

 _When I see an Elephant fly, oh-my!"_

The party applauded after Bill played the final chords on the piano. Jane took a modest little curtsy.

Harry heard the doorbell ring then went over to open it. It was Judy, Marilyn, and Gary Fowler.

"Sorry we're late. Had trouble finding this place!"

Harry shook it off and invited them in.

Tom made his way over to Charlie. "I thought you were stuck on active duty tonight on the _O.K._?"

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Lt. Walker said it was fine with him, provided I make up for the lost time the next few days."

Doug joined in on the conversation. "Wow…the Iron Sailor of the Pacific actually lets you slide once?"

"Well as soon as he learned it was Lancefield that gave the party, he gave in." Sam chimed in.

"Oh yeah…the Navy's citation. I almost forgot." Tom said.

Doug raised up his glass nonchalantly and said "God Bless America."

 **!**

Roland stepped outside to get some fresh air. The party was beginning to become a bit too much for him.

"Party's becoming too much?" He heard a voice behind him.

He turned around to see Judy Prouvaire walking towards him.

"Oh, hi Judy. Yeah unfortunately. I'm not much of a party goer."

"Carter dragged you out of your comfort zone, didn't he?" Judy asked.

Roland chuckled. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." Judy said. "So, what's your story?"

"Mine? Trust me, you'll be bored out of your mind!" Roland said, backing away.

"I work in a hospital that has had considers having more than three patients at the same time a freak accident! I'm pretty sure I won't be bored."

Roland laughed. "Okay. I joined the Marines to follow in my old man's footsteps. He's always going on and on about how incredible it feels to be a part of something bigger than yourself, you know? So, I decided to enlist and see for myself."

"And how are you liking it?" Judy asked.

"We're here in Hawaii, aren't we? Couldn't have asked for a better outfit."

" _Who knows how much I love you? You do!"_ They heard Jane singing from inside.

Judy and Roland looked into the window. "That's a new one!" Judy laughed.

" _No one means more to me, than you do!"_

"Does she ever take a break?" Roland chuckled before looking over in Judy's direction.

The two of them smiled before playfully dancing to the song.

" _You take December and smile it into May."_

 **!**

"I don't get it!" Carter exclaimed as he was watching the two dancing outside on the balcony. "She was able to get him to loosen up in one minute, and I couldn't ever get him to accompany me on our weekend liberties!"

" _And then, December comes back again when you're away!"_

"Maybe he's not into you!" Dick joked as he twirled his wife around in a spin.

" _Who has a charm that very few do?_

 _Who makes laugh necessary? You do!_

 _And who can take my dreams, and make my dreams come true? Who?_

 _Don't give me three guesses; one will do!"_

Jane smiled over at Bill as he continued playing the piano. Then her attention was brought onto Dennis who smiled back.

"You think they'll ever become an item?" Patrick asked Gary.

Gary Fowler shrugged his shoulders and said "Maybe as soon as Bill's music gets picked up."

"I heard that!" Bill exclaimed as he continued playing.

" _Who has a charm that very few do?_

 _Who makes laugh necessary? You do!_

 _And who can take my dreams and make my dreams come true? Who?_

 _Don't give me three guesses; one will do!"_

The room once again, erupted in applause.

Nobody noticed that Judy and Roland were still slow-dancing.


End file.
